


Doomed

by DrNeverland



Series: Rip and Tear (My Clothes Off) [2]
Category: Doom (Video Games)
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Artificial Intelligence, Awkward Tension, Awkwardness, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Butt Slapping, Canon-Typical Violence, Cheesy Sexual Dialogue, Closure, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Demons, Dissociation, Eavesdropping, Embarrassment, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Face Slapping, Female Ejaculation, Fights, Grief/Mourning, Kissing, Large Cock, Multiple Orgasms, Multiple Sex Positions, Penis In Vagina Sex, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Resolved Sexual Tension, Robots, Rough Sex, Sexual Humor, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Space Stations, Touch-Starved, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, or should I say RESOLLLLLVED?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:42:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26512360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrNeverland/pseuds/DrNeverland
Summary: Sarge, from "Distraction," gets a bead on where Hayden has ended up. Her new CO, a colonel in the ARC forces, nick-named "Demo," goes with her to make sure Sarge gets in and out without problems. Unfortunately, the Slayer catches them and sends Sarge packing while Demo is left with the Slayer.TL;DR: Beauty and the Beast, but make it Doom. Sorta. And horny.
Relationships: Doom Slayer | Doomguy/Original Female Character(s), Samuel Hayden/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Rip and Tear (My Clothes Off) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1933096
Comments: 11
Kudos: 31





	Doomed

**Author's Note:**

> This is like, so many headcanons. Also, many Doom-related puns. I know his room isn't "really canon," but that won't stop me because I can't read, suddenly.
> 
> Also, the Slayer is bi because I said so. Hints of DoomVEGA, too.
> 
> Benji/Benjamin is what I named the one in-game ARC Scientist the Slayer meets when he retrieves Hayden's body.

Demo knew _how_ she ended up in the Fortress of Doom. She knew why she’d gone through the portal, and what the consequences would be if she got caught. As a Colonel in the ARC Resistance, she knew that the Slayer was real, and that he was a brutal combatant. There were a lot of things she _knew_.

What she didn’t know, hadn’t expected, was to be trapped on the Slayer’s ship. She certainly hadn’t planned on sitting on his thigh in nothing but her panties, begging for his attention while he focused on his book. It wasn’t like he was a smooth talker or even all that charming.

What he was, was a fierce warrior, bluntly honest, and unreasonably attractive.

And really, being stuck there wasn’t _her_ fault, it was Sarge’s.

* * *

“The Slayer did what?!” Sarge barked, nearly picking Benji off his feet and shaking the poor scientist like a rag doll. Being in her Exosuit made it that much easier. “Why? What did Samuel do to _him_?!”

“He c-came to Dr. Hayden’s lab and took his remains! He anticipated the Slayer coming for him - I don’t know why!”

Demo glanced up from where she tweaked her own Exosuit, giving Sarge a quick side-eye. “You’re being a little over-dramatic, Major. Let the poor geek go.”

Benji hit his feet a moment later, smoothing out his jacket. “We can only assume - with Dr. Hayden’s prediction - that it has something to do with what happened on Mars.” Benji straightened his glasses. “Which reminds me…” Benji gave the room a surreptitious look; it was just him, Sarge, Demo, Ramirez and Cohen in the Exo bay. All friends.

When he was satisfied that they were not being spied upon, he handed Sarge a small data chip.

“After Dr. Hayden was taken, I found instructions at my terminal to give this to you,” Benji murmured.

Ramirez got up from his bench, looking at the data chip in Sarge’s palm. “He leave you a love note?”

Cohen scoffed, running a hand through her short-shorn hair. “He sent nudes. All exposed wiring. Safety violations are sexy.”

Benji turned red and grimaced. “Oh, god, don’t. He’s still my boss…”

Sarge rolled her eyes. Ever since she had come back from retrieving his remains and the official report came out, word of Sarge’s reaction to finding him and reviving Hayden in the field had spread. Her own squad, minus her first CO, seemed to accept it, and eventually, she had opened up about her secret relationship. Mostly. Ramirez, ever the romantic, ate it up. Cohen called them “Dorothy and the Tinman” for weeks.

Demo, a Colonel for the ARC Resistance, had been assigned to Sarge’s team when its previous commanding officer had been killed in a demon attack. On the record, she had to reprimand Sarge for her affair, but off record, intimated that she understood. Love, in all its forms, had become quite rare since the invasion. As long as Sarge kept her visits to the lab while Hayden recovered to her downtime, Demo had no problem with Sarge’s choice of companion. Hayden had no influence over troops not directly assigned to his lab, which Sarge was not.

Besides, they had far larger fish to fry than worrying about a horny ARC member and her liaisons.

“Well, what is it?” asked Cohen, handing Sarge her Exo helmet. “Might as well share with the class.”

Snapping her helmet in place, Sarge inserted the chip into her suit’s data port and watched the load bar in her HUD until it processed. The group stood around Sarge, jointly holding their breath while they waited for her to respond. Demo shook her head - team solidarity was, of course, fine by her, but seeing them all crowd together, she felt a little out of place. She was still the “Outsider” of the group. A foster mom to a family of orphaned siblings.

“Give the girl a chance to breathe,” Demo said, getting up to push her way around the squad members - and Benji - as they huddled around Sarge. “If it _is_ a love letter, I don’t need to hear it, and neither should you three.”

“It… it’s not,” Sarge said, pulling her helmet off again. “It’s how to retrieve him.”

* * *

“Are we sure this portal is stable?” asked Demo, standing side-by-side with Sarge, staring down a whirling portal of bluish-black energy. Their Exosuits were charged and ready to move, Benji had installed Dr. Hayden’s tether chips, and by his account, he felt confident he could retrieve them once he got their signals.

Benji tapped at his screens and checked the readout.

“Holding steady, Colonel. Should be as safe as going through a doorway,” he said.

Demo nodded, still giving the swirling abyss before them a second look-over.

“I said I could go it alone, Colonel, if you’re nervous.” Sarge shouldered her plasma rifle. Though it was just a rescue op, they had no idea what waited them on the other side.

“One person can sneak around a base easier than two. Now that the Slayer’s… away… I should have no problem getting in and out-”

“And _I_ said, ‘ ** **no one goes alone****.’ There’s a _reason_ the Buddy System has lasted for five-hundred-plus years, Major,” Demo replied, turning towards her subordinate. “We go in, I cover you, you track Hayden. We signal Benji, he activates the tethers, we’re back in a few hours.”

Benji looked up from his console. “If you _do_ see the Slayer-”

“We’re not getting you his autograph,” Sarge chuckled. “Besides, you got to _meet_ him.”

Pushing his glasses further up, Benji shook his head.

“I wasn’t going to say that. I was going to tell you to not engage. While he doesn’t have a history of hurting humans, he might feel differently if he catches them breaking and entering. If he attacks you, hit your distress signals immediately, Dr. Hayden or no.”

Demo took a deep breath. “Understood. Is that alright with you?” she asked Sarge.

“It’ll have to be. As much as I’d hate to leave Samuel behind, I don’t want to make the Slayer our enemy,” Sarge replied.

“Good. Let’s go.”

The trip through the portal was disorienting - all of the dizzying rush of riding a rollercoaster without the satisfying surge of adrenaline - but when they landed, the area they ended up was quiet. Where they landed appeared to be the bridge of a massive ship, with a massive front window overlooking the burning remains of Earth. Alien technology thrummed around them, with no alarms signaling they were intruding. It seemed that the Doom Slayer had no concern for invaders, but really, who else could get in? They had only made it because of Hayden’s foresight into tracking him down.

With the bridge so quiet, it seemed the Doom Slayer was not at home, continuing his battle on Earth.

Still, Demo had the distinct feeling of being watched as she and Sarge split up and began to explore the bridge. Finding Dr. Hayden was easy - just turning around had them looking right at his corpse - but the field around him was an unknown energy, and neither of them wanted to stick their hand in and find out. So, they split up, searching the bridge for whatever looked like a way to lower the field.

Sarge occupied herself with a couple of screens at a control terminal - they were unresponsive to touch, safeguarded to only function for the Slayer or other crew - it was hard to tell for certain. Demo searched the field where Hayden’s body hovered, looking for a release, a power switch, _anything_ to get him out and all three of them on their way back to base. It was bad enough this whole mission was being done off-record. Demo wanted it done _soon._

Just as Demo looked beyond the suspension field, wondering what else the fortress housed, she heard a tearing of reality behind her as a new portal opened. She lifted her gun and turned to see the Slayer step through. His armor was blackened with soot and blood from his most recent conquest.

“Holy shit-Major!” Demo barked, drawing his attention.

At the sound of intruders, the Slayer’s head snapped in the direction of the woman closest to him and he grabbed Demo’s gun, ripping it straight out of her hands. He slammed the butt of the rifle into her helmet and shattered her exosuit’s visor and part of the face plate. The force of his assault sent her sprawling onto her back.

Sarge called out for Demo, watching her commander fall to the ground. In the two beats she hesitated to activate recall signal for Benji to draw her back, the Slayer set his sights on her. He dashed across the bridge in a blink and seized her arms. Twisting them behind her back, the Slayer turned and slammed her head into the console.

_“That is enough! They are here for me.”_

Sarge struggled to turn in the Slayer’s iron grip. That voice… it was definitely Hayden; it sounded like he was everywhere at once, but how?

Demo rolled onto her knees, pulling off her helmet carefully. Shards of her visor and the front plate fell onto the floor. She pulled off her gloves, gently brushing around her eyes. One eye was barely touched, but in the other, she felt debris.

“Dr. Hayden, we’re here to retrieve you… we got your message-” Demo started, interrupted by the doctor’s voice.

_“I understand, Colonel. I was curious to see how long it would take you to simply give up and just take my old body with you.”_

“ _Old_ body?” Demo opened her clear eye, focusing on the floating robot beside her.

_“Yes… you see, with my body’s… destruction, I barely had enough power to function. Here, I function as the Fortress of Doom’s pilot AI.”_

Sarge felt the strong hands holding her let go, and she pushed away from the console. She looked back at the Slayer, who only glared at her from behind his own visor.

“Samuel, it’s me.”

_“I know, my dear… congratulations on surviving to Major.”_

The Slayer’s eyes widened, his brow becoming even more furrowed as he put it together. Looking from Sarge to Hayden’s remains and back again, his reaction would have been comical if he hadn’t just handed the both of them their asses.

“Yes, me and Samuel. A woman and a robot. We had… _have_ a relationship.” Sarge folded her arms over her chest. “Which is part of the reason I’m here to take him back.”

The Slayer surprised them both when he spoke. “How?”

Sarge gave him the finger. “None of your fucking business. If you’re not going to kill us, we should leave. All three of us.”

Demo spoke up from where she leaned beside Hayden’s body.

“He smashed my helmet. I can’t go through the portal without one.”

Sarge shook her head. “I’m not leaving you with _him_.”

The Slayer grabbed Sarge by her equipment belt and grabbed her distress beacon. “Not your call,” he said, as he hit the button.

A moment later, Sarge vanished.

_“Was that really necessary?”_ Hayden asked, disappointment laced through his voice. _“She’ll be back. She can be as stubborn as you are.”_

The Slayer didn’t reply. Instead, he took off his own helmet, revealing a weathered, scarred face. He approached Demo without a word and helped her up. Once she was on her feet, he dragged her toward the console with a hand around her bicep.

“Hey, I’m not going anywhere, no need to manhandle me,” she said, ignored as the Slayer locked down the teleport system.

Instead, he looked toward the ceiling. “Scramble the signal.”

 _“As you wish. I am sure you are not_ ** _ **willing**_** _to have me leave just yet,”_ Hayden replied. Demo frowned over the self-satisfied tone to his voice. He sounded entertained by the whole situation. It didn’t add up - if he was _in_ the ship, why didn’t he say something sooner? Why let them search all around? Did he know he was going to become part of the Fortress? Why not speak up when they arrived, let Sarge know he was okay?

And why didn’t he tell them that the Slayer was on his way back?

Dragging her away from the console, the Slayer pulled Demo behind him, guiding her down stairs and through echoing corridors. She could barely see, one eye still shut and tearing up from injury; the other problem was how dark the corridors were.

“Where are we going?” she asked, to no answer. “Why eject Sarge?” Still nothing. Sighing, she felt like giving up. “My squad calls me Demo.”

“Explosives expert.”

Demo faltered, surprised he reacted at all. “Yeah. My real name is-”

“Doesn’t matter. We’re here.”

“Where is- oh.” Demo found herself being pulled into a different chamber, vastly different from the enormous bridge. It appeared to be the ship’s medical bay, bright and smelling sterile. He pushed her toward a seat and began to remove his own gauntlets, revealing rough, square hands with thick fingers. Scars criss-crossed over the backs of his hands and the prominent veining that chased all the way up his arms, disappearing into the short sleeve of his Praetor suit.

Demo only realized she had been staring when he thrust a bottle of eye wash into her line of sight, making her jump. He dropped a hand towel onto her leg.

“Oh… thanks.” Removing her gloves, she pulled out the tab and held it to her still closed eye, rinsing out the debris that she had been unable to reach on her own. Whatever was in the bottle was cool and soothing, cleaning out the debris with her natural tears. It even felt like it was healing up. She leaned forward, letting the fluid dribble off her face. Her eye felt much better, as if no damage had been done at all. Rubbing at her face with the provided towel, she caught a glimpse of movement on the other side of the room.

Leaving Demo to tend to her own injury, the Slayer had removed the top half of his armor, his back to her. The scars on his back were a road map of a live hard-lived; dark bruises and a particularly nasty gash in his side gave a hint of his most recent battle. The red of fresh blood made Demo wonder how he was even standing - the wound was easily the size of her own hand, the skin split and raw from claw marks. It made his attack against the pair of them all the more humiliating: such an injury didn’t even slow him down.

“Damn, that looks bad.”

The Slayer’s head turned in her direction as if he’d forgotten she was there, one eyebrow cocked. He scoffed and dabbed at the torn flesh with a wad of wet gauze. More red came away as he cleaned his wound to a sharp inhale. Fresh blood trickled from the torn skin.

“Before you bleed out like an idiot, may I?”

The Slayer scowled and threw out the soaked gauze, turning to glare at her in silence. A quick flick of his to his side eyes and a nod suggested: “You think you can do better?”

Shuffling across the room, Demo looked over the medical supplies he worked from. While the eyewash bottle was brand new, some of the gear he used looked at least a decade - or more - older than that. Even the pack he’d opened was old and dirty. It looked like he’d stolen it from a medical museum; no way was it new.

“This whole big ship and you don’t have supplies from this century?”

He said nothing, just continued to stare her down.

Sighing, Demo got to work, pulling on medical gloves and opening a pack of sterilized sutures. At least, she hoped they were still sterile. Where could he have gotten such old stuff? And how was he still standing?

He barely flinched when she applied saline wash to the wound, cleaning out clotted blood and removing what looked like the claw from some creature that had been lodged just under his skin. He gave a small grunt when she pulled it out, but hardly made a peep when she stitched him back together.

Bandaging him up, Demo backed away and admired her handiwork. It wasn’t a bad job, she just hoped he wouldn’t get an infection from that claw she pulled out. Demons didn’t exactly wash their hands.

Getting to her feet, she began to announce she was done when she realized his eyes were closed, his head down. A faint snore came from him - he had fallen asleep on his feet! The heavy armor still on his legs seemed to anchor him to the floor, and though he wobbled slightly, his body reflexively self-corrected, keeping him from going onto his face.

Giving him a wide berth, Demo left the med bay. Last thing she wanted to do was wake him. He had already proven to be capable when taken by surprise, she didn’t need to find out how violent he could get if startled from sleep.

Once outside, lights along the floor guided her back toward the bridge in a pleasing light blue color. She reached Hayden’s body, studying it carefully before he interrupted her thoughts.

_“So, now you’re stranded here until Sarge comes back. You won’t survive a return pull without a complete suit.”_

Jumping at the voice all around her, Demo shook her head. “I was just going to ask if he has a replacement for my helmet.”

 _“Unfortunately for you, he fabricates anything he needs, and it’s all made for Argenta armor. It is incompatible with Earth design. If you require replacement armor, you’ll have to convince him to make an_ ** _ **entirely**_** _new suit for you.”_ Saying that, he chuckled overhead.

Demo frowned. There was more Hayden wasn’t letting on, but her head throbbed from trying to take everything in at once. The Slayer was a man, not an angel or god or whatever believers thought he was. He was also an excellent fighter, but he napped on his feet. Hayden, on the other hand, did not seem to be in a rush to leave, nor upset that Sarge had been thrown back to base without either of them to show for it.

“He had a hole the size of my fist in his side and his gauntlets don’t connect with the rest of his suit. How does he do it?” Demo asked.

_“Magic.”_

“You’ve got to be shitting me.”

Hayden chuckled. _“I could explain the_ ** _ **science**_** _to you, how he has been_ changed _, on a molecular level, from an ordinary human man to the Slayer he is now, but it’s probably easier for you to_ ** **understand**** _if I just say it’s ‘magic.’”_

“Thanks, that was nice and patronizing. I don’t know what Sarge saw in you.”

 _“Three meters of metal, plastic and body-safe silicone,”_ Hayden replied.

“Oh God, I didn’t need to know.”

 _“I will spare you the more…_ **_**intimate** _ ** _details, then.”_

“Yea, thanks.” Demo moved toward the consoles, trying to make heads or tails of any of the buttons or touch panels, but none of them were labeled in a familiar language. Some of the screens had Earth Standard Common writing in various windows, but they only translated to basic functions: Scanner, Location, Network, and so on. They still did not respond to her touch.

After checking where Sarge had been slammed into the panel, Demo turned toward Hayden again.

“Why’d you say you’re not ready to leave yet? Are _you_ trying to get a favor from him?”

_“Something like that. I will have a new body soon, but until then, I am stuck here, as you are. When I transfer to this new form… I do not think the Major will care for my new form.”_

“But…” Demo leaned back. As she did, a seat sprung up from the floor, appearing from a small door to catch her as she sat. “Oh…” she gasped, surprised the ship worked that way.

Clearing her throat, Demo carried on. “She’s missed you, you know. It came out, during the official report, that you two were an item. She referred to you by name, wept for you, pulled out her comm’s battery just to give you a jumpstart. You don’t do that for a casual acquaintance.”

_“You’re certainly an improvement over her last commanding officer. Thank you, for taking care of her.”_

Demo raised a brow at the sentiment. The way he’d been talking, Demo was certain he had given up resuming their relationship. For Sarge’s sake, she hoped he wouldn’t. More importantly, she hoped he could return to the ARC.

“What makes you think she won’t like your new form?”

 _“It is… complicated.”_ He went on, changing the subject _. “The Slayer and I have been allies for some time… he has known me in another life… a life I must return to. There is still much to be done, and I do not think Sarge should wait for me. She is still a young woman. There is more for her among her own people than with… something like me. I have not doubted her affections in the past, but I also did not plan on her… caring for me as she does. Had he not sent her back, I would be giving her this speech. She should move onto someone she deserves.”_ His echoing voice dipped down, quieter, sadder. It didn’t sound like he wanted to exactly let Sarge go himself, but whatever he “needed to do” seemed like it might get in the way.

She was just about to argue with Hayden’s statement when she heard heavy footsteps approaching. The Slayer had woken up, and was probably looking for her.

Getting to her feet, Demo squared off her shoulders, ready to make her case for having a new helmet made. However, the sight of him gave her pause. He had cleaned up, blood washed off his abs and chest. Demo felt her mouth water a little - he was built for power, more scars over tight muscle, flexing slightly as he gestured for her to follow him. She berated herself for giving him the shameless once-over and blamed the whole “end of the world” scenario for her arousal. The apocalypse had certainly lowered her standards.

“Where are we-”

“My room. It’s quiet.”

 _“He means my…_ reach… _does not extend to the private chambers.”_

Demo felt her face heat up. Inwardly, she reprimanded herself again for acting like a horny teenager. The Slayer didn’t exactly seem like he was thrilled to have a guest, let alone… _that_. Even if it _had_ been a while since she’d been in a relationship, even a casual one… And she’d never seen someone who looked like they were carved from stone. Everything she had seen thus far - from his deep-set, hazel eyes, surrounded by thick lashes… to a chiseled jaw, biceps as big as her head, to washboard abs that… _really_ couldn’t be healthy for a human man, she still wanted to just… _one little touch couldn’t hurt, right?_ And then Hayden had to go and hint that he was ****more**** than an ordinary man… just how “ _extraordinary_ ” was he?

Demo’s thoughts came to a screeching halt when she collided right into the Slayer’s back, bumping her face right between sharp shoulder blades - not exactly the type of touch she had been thinking about. She caught a strong whiff of the blood, sweat and smoke clinging to his skin. He certainly _smelled_ like he’d been to Hell and back.

“Oh, _God_ ,” Demo gagged.

The Slayer glanced over his shoulder as he moved forward, into what had be his room. Parts of weapons and armor littered half the available surface space. Two computers, one obviously came with the ship, and one that looked like it came from an antique store, sat side-by-side on a desk, a comfortable chair nearby. Surrounding them were small trinkets - everything from unused shotgun shells and grenade housing to plastic souvenirs and food containers. He definitely seemed to _live_ like a stereotypical human male.

Just how the Hell did he manage to get takeout, Demo wondered, spying a pile of pizza boxes and a bag from a fast food chain she didn’t recognize. She couldn’t help herself, however, from picturing the ever-stoic Slayer teleporting into a pizzeria and menacingly placing an order to go, armor and all. The thought made her snort with stifled laughter.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the Slayer cut across the room, pulling off the rest of his armor and storing it on a rack near a worktable. Other pieces of armor and tools littered that surface as well.

As she scanned the room, she realized she didn’t see a bed; she recalled him snoozing on his feet in the med bay. The idea that anyone, even the Slayer, not having a bed made her heart ache. It was a basic necessity, and he went without.

Standing near a pile of discarded clothing, the Slayer started to remove his boots.

“You’ll need a new suit. I don’t have the materials to fix your helmet. Nothing I have would fit your head.” He paused, sliding the belt out of his pants and unzipping them. “The UAC makes all their… _your_ gear proprietary; hard to fix without authorized components. Easier to just make a new set. It’ll also just be… better.”

Demo blinked. That was the most he’d said since they met. It was also far more of the Slayer than she ever expected to see. His thighs looked like they could (and probably had) crushed skulls.

“Dr. Hayden had me believing I’d have to convince you,” she said, turning her back to him as he stripped down to just his underwear. She was _not going to look,_ damn it.

“He’ll make you believe what he wants. Your friend is naive at best, to believe in him.”

Spinning on her heels, Demo marched up to him, her face hot, now with fury. She pointed at him and got in his face, even if he was mostly naked and reeked of demon guts. No one talked down about a member of her team.

“She’s not naive! She cares about him!”

The Slayer snorted and put his hand on Demo’s shoulder, pushing her back.

“And he lured her to my base for a rescue, after he had predicted I’d come for him. Now you’re stuck here.” The Slayer shook his head. “He plays a long con. Sounded like he was convincing you he cares about her, too. He’s not even human. Maykrs don’t give a shit about Earth.”

Demo’s mouth worked open and closed a few times. “Wait… He’s a Maykr?”

“Why do you think I didn’t want to tell you on the bridge?”

“So he used you, too,” she guessed.

“He uses everyone. Your friend’s no different.” He turned around, picking up clothing items, sniffing them and tossing aside items to reject. “I’m sorry she fell for it. She’s not stupid, he just wants her to care, for his own benefit. But he won’t return it. It’s all part of his game.”

“What game is that?”

“...”

“Hello?”

“I’m waiting for him to get to it. There’s more he wants from me, too, but until I get there, I have to wait.”

Demo folded her arms across her chest. “He’s leading you around by the nose, and you don’t like it.”

“No one does.”

“Uh huh. Maybe you don’t want ****us**** to take him back. Maybe _you_ need him, too.”

The Slayer stepped closer to her, looming large - even out of his armor - and glared down his nose at her. She leaned back, put off by the stink of coagulated demon blood.

“Maybe. But you won’t be here long enough to know. Now… Stay put.”

With that, he left the room. When she tried to follow him, the door snapped shut in her face. Despite her best efforts - leaving the range of the door, waving her hands, jumping up and down and trying to pry the door apart, it stayed shut. He had locked her in.

Banging her fist against the door, she hissed in pain, forgetting that her gloves were back in the med bay.

“Asshole,” she grumbled, rubbing the ache from her hand.

Stuck in his room, she took apart the remains of her exosuit, piling the pieces up beside another chair, one pulled up beside a small bookcase and stacks of reading material. Books, magazines, a few haphazardly piled scrolls, a datapad - it seemed like he had things to read from multiple eras and even planets. Some of the books were actual paper! The scrolls were more alien glyphs and writing, not unlike the tattered banners that hung in the hallways and around the bridge.

Rolling up the sleeves of her undersuit, Demo circled the room, taking in what she could without disturbing the balance. She’d seen plenty of personal spaces like this - he “had a system”- and moving anything would disrupt that. Getting on his bad (worse?) side was the last thing she needed while she remained there in the interim.

When he returned, almost an hour later, he was dressed in an ordinary tee and pajama pants, his hair damp. He certainly didn’t look the Legendary Doom Slayer anymore. As he approached, she noticed he also didn’t smell like one: just generic soap and medical spray. Dressed down, he looked like a normal man.

As normal as a man could get, anyway: world-weary, exhausted; the lines around his eyes were partially hidden by the bruise of bags under them. His whole face seemed sunken in, hollowed by time and relentless battle. Despite the casual wear, he still carried himself with the tension of a coiled spring, ready at a moment’s notice to fight back if need be.

It was a feeling Demo was becoming all-too-familiar with, since the first days of the invasion.

“Unlocked a room,” he said. “Follow.”

Demo frowned at his return to shorter sentences. So much for asking more about him, or the ship, or how Dr. Samuel Hayden was actually an alien demi-god from another planet. Once they were in the corridor again, she understood why he kept his words to a minimum. If he didn’t trust the very thing controlling his ship, how could he expect to talk while roaming the halls? And Hayden - or whoever he really was - made sure they knew he was watching.

 _“The room you picked for her… I’m curious as to why you didn’t take it for yourself,”_ Hayden said, his voice carrying a lilt of amusement.

Demo could see the tension rise across his shoulders as the Slayer led her onto another room with a much larger area than the one he used. It didn’t just have a bed, it looked like a small apartment. Why _didn’t_ he take it? At a glance, she could see it was completely furnished, with brutal, Gothic-looking furniture and a massive, four-poster bed. A table and chairs sat to one side with a statue of a warrior in the center. A wardrobe stood to the wall to the left of the bed, which was flanked by two smaller tables. An iron candelabra hung from the ceiling.

The room looked pristine, compared to many of the other places they passed, like a museum tableau.

When she hesitated to enter, Hayden’s voice echoed from above.

_“The King’s chamber. How… unexpected. He doesn’t set foot in there, himself.”_

The Slayer ignored the commentary, but Demo noticed that he had backed up to standing slightly behind her, never crossing the threshold.

“The King?” she asked, her voice quiet. He didn’t look at her; the expression on the Slayer’s face fixed into a neutral mask. However, the way his eyes darted over the revealed chamber, troubled, never resting on a single thing for more than a second or two, said enough. Whoever the King had been, the Slayer respected him. Judging by that alone, Demo guessed that “the King” was deceased, so it wasn’t just a museum piece, it was a _mausoleum_ without a body in it.

“I don’t have to stay here, if it makes you uncomfortable,” she began, but the Slayer cut her off with a hand to her back, shoving her in the door and letting it slam shut behind her. Once again, the door was locked, leaving her alone in a strange place.

“Damn it.”

A quick exploration revealed the entire chamber ****could**** be lived in alone - it had an en suite, the bed, racks of weaponry that looked too heavy for her to attempt to pick up. Except for the need to eat, it could be used as living space. She wondered how long the Slayer intended to keep her in there while she waited for her new suit fabrication to complete.

Still, even with his brusque behavior, she couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for him. Seated on the king’s bed in the massive space, it made her think of what the Slayer called his room. Cramped with all manner of things, disorderly and lacking a bed - did he stay there as self-punishment, or was he just used to confined spaces? Did he choose the squalor, or was it just the result of living alone? So many questions that would go probably go unanswered. She didn’t think him the vulnerable type.

Reflecting on her situation, Demo came to a few other conclusions without his input.The ship itself was massive, that was a given. If the room she was in was just the king’s chamber, and if the Slayer’s space a single unit, there had to be rooms for dozens of people. Or dozens of purposes. The more she ran over the possibilities, the more she realized that was why he locked her in - a place that size, she could get lost, or hurt. Without knowing the way, she could end up in an engine room, ejected out into space, or just take a tumble over a railing and vanish into the dark below the corridors. And who was to say it was _just_ her and the Slayer? He could have other comrades she hadn’t seen, a gallery of imprisoned demons... a harem of other kidnapped military members. No, she thought. Too silly. Maybe he had a personal rabbit farm, if the sack of feed and empty cage in his quarters were a hint as to his hobbies. Along with the literature. And guitars. And comic books.

It all added up to an unusual, but human, man, seemingly alone in a massive fortress, with only the spectre of Dr. Hayden to keep him company.

Maybe it was his own personal Hell.

* * *

“-should have you court-martialed, but we’re still in _a little bit_ of a crisis, so for now, Major, you’re on probation.”

Sarge stood beside Benji, tense and nervous. She hadn’t been able to recover Hayden, her CO was MIA, and worst of all, the General had gotten wind of it all. She was going to beat up whoever snitched, if she found them.

“I was only trying to do for Dr. Hayden-”

“You were running to save your robotic boyfriend like he’s a princess in a castle, Major. Don’t give me any sort of bullshit about ‘repaying the favor.’ It’s only because you managed to get there and back at all that I’m willing to put you on probation and not knock you to safehouse guard! As it is, now we have _two_ people to recover instead of just Dr. Hayden.”

“General, if I may-” Benji interrupted.

The General gave Benji a look that would melt plasticrete. “If Hayden wasn’t your superior, I’d have you reported, too. This may be a resistance, but we’re not anarchists yet, son.”

Benji nodded and adjusted his glasses. “Well, until he ported out the Major, I had a lock on the Slayer’s fortress. While I can’t get us back _in,_ I still know where he _is_.”

The General sat back, bridging his fingers together. “Well?”

Benji, sweat breaking out across his scalp, steeled his spine. “Drop the charges against the Major and I’ll tell. Even if you pull the data from my console, it’s in a coding language only used by the doctor and his top staff. And none of us will decode it for you. It would take you twenty years to crack it.”

Sarge looked at Benji like he’d grown a second head. “You really are a Hayden-ite.”

“Quiet, Major.” The General huffed. “You have a deal, you bald little shit. If only because we’re crunched for time and resources. The Slayer might have stopped the invasion, but there’s still a lot of work to be done around here.” The General sat forward in his seat. “Major, you’re still on probation - let me finish, Benjamin - but you will head the next foray into the Slayer’s station. If he gets lazy enough to leave the door unlocked again, I want a full unit going in as a rescue op, not another smash-and-grab. None of this two-crew buckaroo bullshit. It’s bad enough your CO is stuck with him. Dismissed.”

* * *

Even with the reality of demons, souls, aliens and the “mortally challenged,” Demo had never believed in ghosts. Now, she lived with one. Days passed, only indicated by the ship’s automatic light cycle. She only saw the Slayer for some meals or in passing; Hayden otherwise unlocked the door at designated times and guided her through the ship by way of lighting a specific path. Anywhere he darkened was off-limits, and a _lot_ of places had been kept in shadow.

 _“He forgets to eat, sometimes,”_ Hayden explained, when she passed by the Slayer’s door. She couldn’t hear anything through the thick metal, but perhaps it was for the best.

The fabricator had been reset, according to Hayden, using data from her previous Exosuit to build a replacement. She passed it every day - it had started with the legs, and was just up to the knees that morning. Every need on the ship was provided by fabrication, as long as the designated devices had sufficient instructions. It made for few food options, as most meals provided were just supplements.

At least she understood _why_ the Slayer would take the long route in getting food from literally anywhere else. Without a proper cook, all that provided food was a replicator, and from that oozed colorless, nutrient rich (flavor deficient) paste. That much gray porridge and substitute tofu (or whatever it _really_ was) had to drive anyone nuts.

The lack of staff also explained the random junk the Slayer had in his room. Without other people on board, there was no means of entertainment or communication. Just a lot of stony walls and mysterious tech. The ship - at least with Hayden manning it as an AI - ran itself. Cleanup was maintained by a small ecosystem of bots - not so unusual. Cleaning bots had been around since the 21st century. It was the fact that they cleaned every inch of space, even the high walls and tech surfaces - that was unique.

“I am losing my fucking mind,” she said, staring down a bowl of wannabe oatmeal paste.

Hayden’s voice chuckled overhead. _“What bothers you today?”_

“Everything. I was just sitting here, thinking about how _neat_ it is that there’s little robots that I never see making my bed when I get up. It’s like living in a haunted hotel.”

Hayden’s voice rumbled enough to shake the table as he laughed.

_“That’s one way of viewing it. Confinement doesn’t agree with you, does it?”_

“No. How the hell does the Slayer do it?”

_“He works out.”_

“Explains the abs.”

Another echoing laugh.

_“I could show you, but you might get in trouble.”_

“You’re intentionally baiting me.”

_“Yes. You’re not the only one who’s bored, Colonel.”_

“I’ll blame you if I get caught.”

_“What is he going to do, delete me?”_

Hayden lit the way to an elevator, taking her to the very bowels of the ship. As she descended, an immense machine became highlighted before her: a titanic humanoid mech, limbless, suspended in a hangar across from the elevator shaft. Large horns curved up from its emerald-green helmet. Just the overall look reminded her of the Slayer’s Praetor suit.

 _“That is an Atlan. It is ten times the machine any Earth forces could build. At least, where they were in terms of technology,”_ Hayden explained, though Demo hadn’t asked. She figured that he just saw the look of amazement on her face when she took in the gargantuan robot.

“Where did it come from?”

 _“The same place this ship came from. A distant world, once called Exultia.”_ Before Hayden elaborated further, the elevator came to a stop, door sliding open. _“Here we are: the Ripatorium.”_

“Really?”

 _“I didn’t name it that.”_ Hayden chuckled. _“Good luck to you.”_

Demo grimaced at the way he said that. He had baited her, guided her to an elevator in a part of the ship she hadn’t been to before, showed her a massive machine, and now snuck her to the “Ripatorium,” the place where the Slayer was said to train, where Hayden _knew_ she’d be getting in trouble for sneaking around. Why she let him talk her into this…

 _He uses everyone,_ Demo thought as she recalled the Slayer’s warning to her.

“ ** **He**** also called my SIC naive,” she mumbled, striding up to the Ripatorium doors. They slid open, unlocked because the Slayer was not expecting her to find her way down there. Or because Hayden opened the way on purpose.

Demo found herself standing on a ledge, overlooking a battle arena. The area was littered with burning corpses and detritus. The Slayer dashed across the field, weapon in hand, dodging and weaving with the elegant grace of a skilled warrior. He cut down a swath of Imps with a single strike, just to swing over their bodies on an overhead pole. He vaulted from there to another, nimble as an Olympic gymnast - impressive for a man of his bulk in full combat armor.

Leaning in for a closer look through the smoke, Demo missed the Revenant that had spotted her, creeping along the edge and leaving the Slayer alone, now that it had an easier target.

The demon leaped up, screaming in Demo’s face as it trained both missile turrets at her. Demo jumped back, instinct having her reach for a weapon, but she was unarmed. She backed away, not even having the protection of a suit to block the incoming barrage. Just as the lasers focused on her, a loud BANG resounded, the turrets exploded, and they were showered with sparks and shrapnel. The Slayer dropped down from where he perched, disappearing out of view after making his precision strike. The Revenant turned to look for the Slayer; as it did, a hook pierced through its core, pulling the Slayer onto the ledge and into the beast’s face. Once there, the shotgun in his hand was up against its belly, and he unloaded both barrels, splattering the wall - and Demo - with its guts.

Demo, pressed into the corner, tried to make herself look smaller, hide in the bit of shadow, but it was no use. The Slayer scooped her up, not even bothering to reprimand her as he hoisted her over his shoulder and carried her back out into the hall like a duffel bag.

“Put me down!” she yelped,struggling to escape his grip.

“You should stay where you’re told. But I take it Hayden led you down here,” he said, not asking, _knowing,_ and knowing the AI in the walls was listening. “That Revenant was going to kill you.”

“Like you care!” Demo turned enough to grab the launcher on his shoulder. Taking it in both hands, she gave it a hard pull, bashing it into his helmet. “You just lock me in my room for days, only letting me out to eat like a caged animal! There’s nothing else to do!”

Growling, the Slayer dropped her on the floor and put his boot square on her chest, weighing her down.

“Your ****boredom**** is not my priority,” he snarled, pulling his helmet off. “I do not exist to _entertain_ you.”

“Big man, fighting with a full arsenal against an unarmed opponent,” Demo snapped back, pushing at his boot.

“You’re not incapable, or you wouldn’t be _alive_ to be Colonel,” he hissed, voice growing cold. “I don’t like emotional manipulation.”

Demo scowled. “Fine.” She kicked her knee up, jamming it into the back of his leg. He buckled, taking his foot of her chest to regain his balance.

Rolling out from under him, Demo wrapped herself around his leg. Tensing all of her fingers like a blade, she jammed them into the space between his leg and hip armor, right into his pelvic joint. He stumbled and growled, kicking his leg up to dislodge her like an old boot.

Sliding across the floor, Demo swiftly got to her feet. Without his helmet on, she could see his face - and he was _smiling,_ all teeth bared like a snarling wolf.

Gesturing at her with the universal “bring it” motion, he braced himself; Demo charged right at the Slayer, even if it meant getting hurt. Her frustration of being left alone and ignored collided with her rage at being stuck in the Slayer’s company, his dismissal of her agency, impeded by his and Hayden’s restrictions. And Sarge wasn’t there for her to blame for getting her into this mess.

Anticipating Demo to go for his midsection, the Slayer stooped low, shoulder out to catch halt her impact. She, however, leaped up and grabbed part of the elaborate overhang above them and threw her legs around his head. She linked her ankles and tightened her knees together. He clawed at her thighs, blinded on all sides.

Still holding onto the overhang, she twisted her torso and kicked, throwing him into a wall with the momentum. On the backswing, she brought up both knees tight and cracked him in the jaw. Unphased, he looped his arms behind her legs and turned, yanking her grip from the bar above. The force had them both in a tumble on the floor, with Demo’s back hitting first, her head second, and him on top of her legs.

In her daze, the Slayer had the advantage, clamoring up and pinning both Demo’s legs with his knees, one hand fixing her wrists over her head. The other punched into the floor beside her head.

“Get off me, you human bulldozer,” Demo groaned, clearly having lost. Without an Exosuit to take the blows, her body ached, and his weight on top was not helping. Much worse was the fact that she knew Hayden was watching and probably muted himself to laugh his non-existent ass off.

The Slayer, hardly out of breath for his troubles, had a much less manic smirk on his lips. He leaned down to speak into her ear, deep voice dropped to a murmur. His breath on her skin made her gulp and shiver, but she covered herself by trying to push him off again.

“Not bad, Colonel,” he said. Sitting back, he made eye contact with Demo, briefly gave her face a look-over, then let her go, rolling onto his feet with predatory agility. As a show of sportsmanship, however, he extended a hand to help her up.

Demo, however, grabbed his arm with both hands, planted her feet in his abdomen and rolled on her spine, launching him overhead and another six feet away. He caught himself, tucking into the throw and coming up on one knee. He smiled at her again as she got up, ready for another counter-assault.

The look on his face made her drop her stance. His eyes sparked with new light: he was _enjoying_ that she fought back. And that smug fucking grin - she wanted to deck him.

“Knew that was coming. You telegraph everything.”

Demo wanted to scream. He had _let her_ throw him around. Her face burned with embarrassment - he had been playing with her, like cat and mouse.

“You’re a dick.” She rubbed at the back of her head, still sore from striking the ground. “I guess you don’t get to be a legend by being a slouch on the field.”

“No.”

“I need a shower. I smell like you now.”

“I’ll take you back to-” he started to guide her with a much gentler hand when she yanked out of his reach.

“No I’m not going back there, not if I’m going to be held prisoner. Even if the cell is nicer than yours.”

The Slayer’s frown returned, as if the smile had never been there at all. “Fine. But you can’t go wherever you please. I’ll have Hayden expand your allowed range, but the Ripatorium-”

“Who called it _that?”_

“-is definitely out of bounds. You don’t go in without me and a full set of armor on, unless you have a death wish.”

Demo looked away, face still hot from being played with. She started to walk with him, not wanting to be dragged around like an obstinate little girl.

“You’re not going to just ghost me more, are you?”

“I can’t--” The Slayer’s face twitched as he faltered to respond. “It has been a while since I shared space with another person,” he said, words coming out like they hurt him to say.

“Obviously. Your room looks like the aftermath of a frat party. I take it the bots don’t get in there much.”

“No.”

Demo nodded, hugging herself as they walked. “Why don’t you have a bed? Or use another room with one? Why do you live in a closet?”

“Not used to beds. I sleep on the floor or in one of the chairs.”

“That’s gotta be murder on your back.”

“I’ve slept in worse places.”

“...I do not find that hard to believe.”

_“I found him in a sarcophagus.”_

“Stay out of this,” the Slayer barked, glaring at the ceiling. “VEGA knew how to mind his business.”

“VEGA? The Mars AI?”

_“He was the primary AI for this ship, before-”_

“Stop! Don’t bring him up!” the Slayer snarled again, speaking through gritted teeth.

Demo put a hand on the Slayer’s arm before he worked himself up again.

“Ignore him,” she said, moving to stand in front of the Slayer. “I’ve lost loved ones, too.”

“Lots of people have,” the Slayer said, shrugging her hand off his arm and striding forward, leaving her there in the hallway. “Hayden, show her where the communal showers are, I’m going to my room.”

 _“As you wish,”_ Hayden replied, shifting the colors of the lights to create a path for Demo’s use. _“Should I warn her when you’re next in the vicinity, so she has a chance to avoid your_ ** _ **sparkling**_** _personality?”_

The Slayer waved both hands above his head, flipping Hayden the double-bird before he stalked off on his own path.

“Real charming.”

 _“It should be no surprise to you that this_ ****is** ** **__ ** _his most charming.”_

Demo shook her head. “I’d hate to see what he’s like when he’s being rude.”

_“You saw him kill the Revenant.”_

Demo huffed. “That’s a way of looking at it. Killing demons is rude… if you’re a demon.”

 _“If you know of a_ polite _way to slaughter something, I’d be very interested in hearing it.”_

Demo crept out of showers, her bodysuit draped over one arm. Clad in only her underwear, she tiptoed down the hall. She would have to pass the Slayer’s room, and really didn’t fancy running into him again, not half naked, not after that humiliating row they had in the hallway. She huffed, disliking being played with while she barely made an impact on him.

 _“Not bad, Colonel,”_ replayed in her mind, with the smug look of a satisfied cat on his face. The memory of his breath on her ear, the weight of him on top… it made her break out in goosebumps. She shook her head, fuming at herself once again.

“Fucking dumb jock, meat-headed, one-man-OOF!”

Demo shut her eyes and held her breath. She had walked right into the Slayer, _again,_ all because she was caught up in her own head instead of paying attention to her surroundings. What was more embarrassing was that the doors to their rooms were inordinately loud, and she didn’t realize she had yet to reach her borrowed chamber.

“Not wise to lose focus, Colonel,” the Slayer said. Gone was the smug tone or snappish speech that Hayden inspired. “Watch-”

“Yes, yes, watch where I’m going.” Demo kept her eyes closed. She had felt nothing but _skin_ when they collided, meaning that he at least had his shirt off. Taking short, quick breaths, she could smell that he’d cleaned up again with her nose right in the middle of his chest. Even felt a few hairs tickle her nose.

“You should, too, since ****you**** also bumped into ****me****.”

“Thought you were back in your room.”

“I am not.”

How was he not mortified? Demo wondered if he was used to going among half-naked people, or if he just lacked any sense of decency. Shaking herself out of it, she pushed down her embarrassment and opened her eyes. He had seen a lot worse than a woman in her underwear. It was probably a _treat._

Taking a deep breath and pointedly ignoring that they were still standing about three inches apart and he was _definitely_ shirtless, Demo looked up to his face, trying to ignore the prominent clavicles, strong neck, and square jaw as she forced her eyes upwards.

 _Stupidly masculine jarhead…_ she thought, struggling to move her eyes past the scar through his lips.

“I can see that,” he murmured. She could sense his hands hovering, wanting to move her, not wanting to be inappropriate.

He tipped his head down towards her; he was too goddamned tall even without the armor. Despite the shadow from the overhead lights, she could see the tips of his ears as they turned deep pink - was the _Slayer_ **_**blushing**_** _?_ His throat bobbed as he swallowed, otherwise unmoving.

 _Oh man, Benji would murder me to be in my place right now… shitshitshit, you’re staring… say something!_ Her thoughts yelled at her to just _do something already!_

“I, um, I realized I don’t have anything else to wear and I’ve been in this suit for days and I tried to flag down a cleaner bot to take it but the only ones near the showers seem to be wet-vacs, so I just thought I could get to my room without running into you again and oh my God, I’m rambling.”

“Yeah.” The Slayer nodded. His eyes were less on hers and actually drifted lower, to her lips, as she babbled.

“I’m gonna just-” she started.

“Yeah, okay-” he replied.

Demo started to move to one side; the Slayer moved when she did, the pair of them colliding all over again.

“Um,” Demo said. She heard the Slayer inhale deeply, just above her head.

“Right. Sorry.”

They shuffled around each other awkwardly, doing the dance many people did when trying to get out of one another’s way, only to land right back in it again, hands clumsily grabbing, arms flailing helplessly and pushing on shoulders as they moved, struggling to keep their touches appropriate, until the Slayer finally broke protocol.

Putting his hands firmly on Demo’s waist, he picked her up, turned completely around and set her on her feet again. He took her shoulders and gave her another half-spin, facing her away from him as he swiftly marched off in the opposite direction.

“What the hell just happened?” she asked. As Hayden’s chuckling voice began to respond, she waved her hands frantically in the air.

“That was a rhetorical question, goodbye!” she said, double-timing it all the way to her room.

That night, Demo definitely did _not_ dream about the Slayer pinning her down again, rough hands all over her, snarling, thrusting, leaving bite marks all over her shoulders. And she _definitely_ **_**did not**_** wake up in the middle of the night and masturbate until she came with the Slayer’s name tumbling from her lips and a wet spot on the mattress.

She just slept on the other side of the bed for an entirely different, completely innocent, unrelated-to-the-Slayer reason.

Demo really hoped that Hayden _didn’t_ have access to the bedrooms.

* * *

_“So, how are you_ enjoying _your little visitor?”_ Hayden teased, as the Slayer sat down to a meal.

Ignoring Hayden, the Slayer began to eat, shoveling lukewarm nutrient paste into his mouth. He was still upset with Hayden, but there was little he could _do_ about it, outside of dismantling the entire ship.

Hayden had control of the ship’s portals; he had deliberately let the Colonel and Major into the Fortress, knowing full-well that he had just defeated the Icon of Sin and would be returning soon.

The fact that the fabricator seemed to suddenly slow down in recreating a smaller exosuit did not go unnoticed. Hayden was causing problems for him _on purpose,_ but he had no idea why _._ Demo wasn’t a UAC lackey, she was decently ranked but not a huge member of the ARC or the resistance network would be bitching about him “kidnapping” her. The transmissions were focused more on rebuilding after the Icon fell, communications lingered from hopeful speeches about saving the last of the human race to direct calls to action. Not a peep about one missing colonel or recovering Hayden’s body.

It was enough to make him suspicious of what they intended to do as well. He knew the UAC to be callous - it wouldn’t surprise him in those who had jumped ship to the Resistance had just written off Demo and Hayden as casualties.

But… he couldn’t help thinking that something more was up.

_“Incoming.”_

Tucking his thoughts back for later, the Slayer slowly picked up his bottle of water, and turned his head away from the door as Demo joined him. He didn’t want to see her; he had no answers for the questions she asked, nothing that would satisfy. He couldn’t explain why the fabricator was taking its sweet time in making her a new suit, because Hayden was deliberately making his life difficult, and now he dragged this poor woman into it. Not to mention that things always got… awkward between them. And he didn’t consider himself a master of social graces to begin with.

At least she wasn’t the swooning fangirl type. He didn’t need the pressure of being “so cool” when all he wanted to do was train, fix his armor, tune his weapons, and maybe think about finding an off-Earth animal sanctuary. Demo, at least, didn’t need to be impressed every time they shared space for more than a minute. His mind went back to that one tech from Hayden’s lab, how the poor bastard followed him around like a puppy.

He missed VEGA. VEGA understood him.

“Oh, you’re here…” Demo said, sounding surprised. He heard her fiddle with the food replicator, which still pumped out the same nutrient paste they’d been eating since they both arrived. He didn’t know what she expected to happen. There were a few recipes in there, hardly healthy options, all tailored to his specific tastes. The generic Sentinel food supplements were better than starving, though. Not like they had anywhere to go unless they went looking for a human outpost.

As she sat down, he started to get up, to take his meal and his water with him when he noticed what she was wearing: her bodysuit for leggings, the top half hanging at her waist, and an oversized tee with the sleeves cut off. Specifically, one of _his_ shirts that had gone missing: a faded black tee with a screen printed logo for the band “The Smashing Pinkies.” It was only oversized because it had been stretched to fit _his_ torso, not a woman smaller than him.

He stared at the shirt, tightening his jaw.

“Oh, right, this…” she said, looking down. “One of the bots brought it to my room, and I thought it was a peace offering… Guess not.”

The Slayer poked his tongue into his cheek and bit it, refraining from saying anything. It was fine. Hayden just had one of the robots go into his room, steal one of his shirts and give it to her; they were not programmed to do anything outside of their regular jobs.

“It’s fine,” he said, gripping his spoon hard enough to make his hand shake.

Demo glanced at his fist.

“You don’t look fine with it.”

He looked up, towards her face, her expression clearly concerned.

“I said it’s fine.”

Demo frowned, grabbed the hem of the stolen shirt, and pulled it off, revealing her bra underneath. She dropped it on the table between them and started on her breakfast.

“I knew it had to be yours. Sorry I assumed wrong.”

The Slayer drew quiet again, staring at her. She had a sturdy frame, built from training - not so thoroughly muscled as he or any Argenta, but strong enough. She was relatively free of the scars from demon attacks, leaving her with soft, touchable skin. On one shoulder, she had the traditional military tattoo of her division’s logo, with her company’s number and the branch’s motto in a winding ribbon.

He watched her arm flex as she spooned paste into her mouth, making a point to avoid eye contact with him. He had gotten a feel for her strength when they fought - nowhere near his build, she could still hold her own in a brawl. He wanted it again; less the argument, more to learn more of her ability and test it against his own. An intelligent combatant, not a mindless beast made for destruction… a challenge…

He began to wonder if she’d be up for a spar when she waved her hands in front of his face _. Full contact, hand-to-hand, no weapons, just the two of them and an open arena…_

“Hello? Anyone home?”

Blinking out of his reverie, the Slayer growled. “What?”

“You were staring. I can leave if you’re uncomfortable.”

He tilted his head, confused. She thought _he_ was uncomfortable? He was the Slayer! The Unchained Predator, The Hell Walker… she would have to do a lot more to bring him discomfort. She was an annoyance, _at best._ Another victim of Hayden’s scheming. So what, if he wasn’t totally alone and also she smelled good, sometimes?

He scoffed. “By all means, make yourself at home,” he snapped, turning in his seat to get up.He felt a little lightheaded as he stood.

“Whatever,” Demo replied, focusing on her meal instead of him.

He crushed his water bottle in his hand, taking a few deep breaths. His pulse was racing, and his mind kept flicking back and forth between the idea of fighting a halfway decent opponent and just going to the Ripatorium and working off this sudden surge of… aggression? It felt like he should have a better name for what he was feeling - the memory of (or maybe foolish yearning for) hands touching him, bringing joy instead of pain, gentle caresses instead of blunt force trauma, but also the rush of blood, the screaming, claws - no, just fingernails - raking over his shoulders but leaving no injuries. A recollection of something he had forgotten that he even missed… something his body suddenly craved.

“I’m going to the Ripatorium,” he announced, leaving the remains of his meal behind and ducking out of the dining area quickly. “Keep the shirt.”

Just as the door shut behind him, he heard Hayden say:

_“It’s not you, it’s him.”_

Downstairs, he donned his Sentinel training armor, the feeling of Argenta metal cooling his already burning skin. As he started up the sequence, he released a few of the Heavies: a couple of Mancubi, a half dozen Knights, a couple of Barons, as well as a small swarm of Imps and Gargoyles. He tore through them all, ripping off limbs and heads, bashing through skulls until their brains oozed out, shredded through layers of fat and muscle until demon blood dripped off his body. At some point, he was only left with one Baron, and he sat on the thing’s chest, beating its head in with his own helmet, torn off as he pummeled the thing to the red paste well after it had expired from the brutal treatment.

Sitting back on his haunches, breathing heavy, the Slayer tilted his head upward and closed his eyes. He could hear the arena bots making their way in, cleaning up the blood and ichor, repairing frames that had cracked or melted from some demon’s misplaced shot. He heard the sounds of machinery around him in his ears, but in his head, he heard another voice… someone else calling to him, whispering words of passion into his ear. A name was said, but the word became a screech of demonic sound as his damaged memory blanked it out from his recall. The sensation of hands on his body ghosted over his skin again, conjuring the touch of a long-dead entity.

Rolling away from the Baron’s corpse as the robots sought to break it down, he sat on a slab of stone, trying to steady his breathing. He dropped his head down and propped his arms on his knees, his eyes closing once more. If only he could remember… whoever it was he had sex with, they were obviously long gone. And he had taken other lovers since then, mostly in show of bonding with some of the other Night Sentinels. Sex - that he knew. Just as he _fought_ side by side with brothers and sisters in arms, he had shared their beds, tables - just about any available surface and willing partner. Like all things in Exultia, sex was a battle and just as intense with desire and restraint; indeed, the challenge was _not_ injuring your partner. Raising a hand to a mate was pure betrayal, and thus abuses in partnership practically unheard of, lest one bring dishonor to their name by breaking the trust of family bonds.

Family… that seemed like one of the ghosts that haunted his memories. But that was not quite what he yearned for. He desired more than mere sex, not just a comrade in a bed and on the battlefield. He wanted, _needed_ , connection. To be at peace with another person and know them intimately. What he felt, what his body burned for went deeper than a hasty fuck. He wanted to feel human again, be reminded that he was a man, just as capable of gentle care as he was ruthless slaughter.

He needed something that he could not get. It was a sacrifice to his cause, to relinquish that part of himself, so that he remained untethered, so no one had to suffer being yoked to him. He certainly couldn’t ask that of Demo. She didn’t need to bear his burden.

Tipping his head back, he smacked it against the column at his back. The stone fractured on impact.

“Fuck.”

He had two hands and an imagination. He could fake it until the desire passed.

His skin felt cold and sticky with demon blood as he made his way up to the higher floors, toward the communal showers. His helmet dangled from the fingers of one hand, the other had started to unbuckle the straps to his shoulder armor when he just stopped. His body went numb, the addictive rush from fighting draining out his energy.

He was so tired. His head throbbed, his body ached, his skin was itchy. He needed to get clean, to wash the blood away, find a dark, quiet spot and rest.

Armor pieces began to trail behind him as he exited the elevator, dropping them to the ground as he walked, undressing. He knew he had to get clean, get the blood off. The wound he had endured while battling the Icon had healed, and the gauze from it fell with the rest of his things, left for the robots to pick up after him. He stooped to unbuckle his boots, distracted by the raw skin across his knuckles before he growled, slammed his fist into the nearest wall and continued disrobing. A dent was left in his wake.

He entered the showers with his hand at the waist of his blood-soaked pants when a noise made him stop. The showers were already going… did he leave it running? Another sound furthered his confusion: someone was singing.

Following the sound inward, he stopped in the center row of showers, finding a smaller person just there, using the facilities.

“HOLY SHIT! Slayer! What the fuck?!” The woman screamed. He stared at her. That wasn’t his name… what _was_ his name? Slayer, Outlander, Destroyer… all things he had been ****called**** , but who was _he_?

She threw soap at him and he snatched it out of the air, approaching her with his bare feet dragging on the wet floor. He held it out to her, brows furrowed as he watched her face, another image in his mind trying to breach the surface of his thoughts. But the face that threatened to push its way through was too bloodied, too broken for him to recognize. He couldn’t tell if it was a genuine memory or his own violent mind making up pictures for him.

Instead, he tried to focus on the woman before him, letting his eyes chase water droplets down her chest and over her folded arms. He licked his lips hungrily.

“Are you in there?” she asked, gingerly lifting one hand while trying to maintain modesty, waving it in front of his eyes. He blinked, snapping his gaze back to hers again.

“...kar…en tuk…” he muttered.

“Huh?”

The Slayer dropped both hands, and with them, the soap and his combat pants. He stepped out of them, leaving them to soak up water from the floor.

“Whoa…” The woman backed up, holding her hands out. “Take it easy… Stay… _wow_ , holy shit… um… stay right there.”

He stayed put, letting the water hit into his side, beginning to rinse away the gore covering his torso.

The woman backed out of his line of sight; he could hear her on the other side of the wall. She appeared a few moments later, draped in a sleeveless black shirt that barely covered her body.

Demo watched the Slayer carefully as she approached him again. Unfortunately, she had seen this kind of state in other personnel. Dissociation was seldom harmful, but with a man like him, she didn’t know what to expect. He simply stared at her, _through_ her, eyes glazed over as he muttered something in a language she didn’t recognize.

“I’ll help you get cleaned up, then maybe get you to your room. Is that okay?”

He blinked again, lids heavier and moving independently. He looked so exhausted. She worried that if he passed out, she’d have to leave him there until he came to. There was no way she could carry him, not when he was so dense with muscle.

Side-stepping around him, she picked up the soap from the ground and rinsed off the blood from his hand. She managed to guide him to stand under the water, his back to her as she began to scrub.

“Let me know if I hit a bad spot, okay?” she asked. A light grunt came from him, but no solid words.

“Okay,” Demo sighed.

Getting to work, she scrubbed the blood off his torso; it streamed down his legs and into a brownish-red puddle on the floor. He grunted a few times when she grazed a cut or pressed too hard on a bruise, but otherwise, he offered no protest.

Giving up on turning him around after a few attempts failed, Demo wriggled herself in between him and the wall, reaching up to scrape the blood out of the Slayer’s hair. She quickly regretted that decision, as he advanced on her, pressing her into the wall with his bulk, a line of solid muscle holding her in place from chest to thighs, only the sodden tee shirt making a thin barrier between them.

His hands, rough and leathery, came up to frame her face as he stared down. She reined in her fear, watching him back. She could feel his hips press into hers, pinning her against the warm stone behind her. She felt hot from the water, but her blood ran cold with the knowledge that he was strong enough to kill her with a flick of his wrist. Her heart was racing, and her voice came out in a raw murmur:

“What are you going to do?”

The Slayer stared down at the woman. She was so… _human,_ so delicate, fragile, compared to him. He could snap her neck with no effort on his part, end her life - but that would make him no better than the things he hunted. He needed to protect his people, humans, frail creatures like this one in his hands. He gave so much of himself for their survival.

He drew his thumbs over the tender skin on her face, eyes darting back and forth over it as he studied her, as if reading a book. He wanted to commit _someone_ to memory, someone alive, not torn to shreds to leave a burning hole in his psyche. He needed a reminder, a _good_ one, of what he fought for. He pulled on her bottom lip with his thumb, hearing a shocked inhale, feeling her chest heave against his torso. Her heart was racing; her pulse fluttered under his fingertips as they grazed the sides of her neck. She was scared of him; he could feel her body trembling against his, but she made sure to hide it on her face.

No. He didn’t want her to be afraid. He was meant to protect her and all humanity. She needed to know that.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he murmured. “I don’t want that.”

Demo let go of her held breath. Whatever he was going through, whatever triggered this episode, seemed to be releasing its grip on him. Whatever horrors he had seen, whatever trauma he lived through… It explained why his musculature was so prominent, why scars traced an atlas of nightmares along his skin - This was a man who knew no rest, no relief - he could sleep, but he could never truly be at peace. Not with the way he carried himself, coiled, ready wade into the fray. The scars on the outside had to only be a reflection of the wounds inside, ones that would never heal, only to last and fester into the rage that made him a legend. The image built on prophecy, combined with what Demo had seen of him in their short time together, painted a clear image: that of a warrior, chained to his role, his fight never ending. An ongoing war that would haunt him until his last breath. He was made to bear the horrors by forces beyond them both.

She really felt sorry for him. Looking up into his face, she watched his eyes darting back and forth, much like he had scanned the King’s chamber, never settling or lingering on one area for very long.

Gently placing her hands on his chest, she gave him a light push. When he remained unmoving, still making a study of her face, she asked:

“What _do_ you want, then?”

His answer was his hands dropping, just to slide up under her soaked shirt; she could feel his cock against her thigh as he pressed further in, with no barrier of wet cloth to separate them. She gulped, feeling her pulse jump again as his hands traveled further up to cup her breasts. His hands were very tough, thumbs grazing over her nipples before she pushed back, putting a stop to his actions.

She parted her arms quickly, forcing his hands off and the shirt to drop again.

“Whoa- we are not going there. Not with you in this state. You need a nap, and maybe something other than shitty porridge to eat. Well before you even _think_ about sex, okay?”

The Slayer grumbled, his lips turned down into a pout. An actual god-damned pout.

“Okay.”

Suppressing her shock that he agreed, Demo felt her confidence returning. At least he knew well enough when to let someone else take the lead, and was “back” enough to communicate.

“Okay then. Let’s get you to a bed.”

It took some maneuvering, a little bit of stumbling, and an onslaught of unhelpful commentary from Hayden, but Demo managed to direct the Slayer - not only into a room, but beyond his own and into the King’s chamber. She reasoned it was better that he actually rest in a real bed, instead of sleeping off his episode on the floor of his cramped quarters.

Both of them were clad in towels; Demo had abandoned her sopping shirt in the showers, leaving her to wrap herself and him in the only material they had that wasn’t soaking wet or bloody.

Guiding him over to the bed, he began to resist when he realized where she had taken him.

“This is the wrong room,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t be in here.”

“It’s my room now, and I’m letting you use it.”

Though he was near the bed, he stopped beside it, an unmoving wall when she tried to make him sit.

“No.”

“Oh, come _on_. I know you respected this guy, but I’ve been staying here-”

“I can’t sleep in a bed-”

“Time to learn how,” she argued, pushing on his chest, trying to get him to buckle. “How are you so strong?”

“Magic.” He grabbed her wrists, trying to stop her while also avoiding hurting her.

“Very funny. Now sit-ack!”

Demo’s last attempt to get him to sit, combined with his exhausted dodging resulted in them both going over: him on his back and she on top. Demo jammed her eyes shut and dropped her face into the middle of his chest. This whole time, since arriving, was just one long bad dream, it had to be. No one should have this much humiliation heaped on them without a safeword.

Under her, she felt the Doomslayer’s body tense up, hands clapping onto her waist.

“Demo. Please get off me,” he said, lifting her up.

She pried one eye open, then the other as she realized his face was burning red. It seemed that the shock of embarrassment snapped him out of the episode completely - great for him! - and he was blushing again.

“Why are _you_ so damned red?”

“Because this is awkward?? We’re naked, damp and on the King’s bed.”

“You’re the one who waltzed into the showers, stripping, during a dissociative episode, not me. I’m just trying to help.”

“I…” The Slayer opened his mouth and closed it again. He placed her on the bed beside him and sat up on the edge. “I remember fighting in the Ripatorium, then I needed a shower…”

Adjusting her own towel, Demo sat up beside him. “You kept saying… um… ‘Kar en tuk?’ What-”

“Argenta. ‘Rip and tear.’ What I am made to do,” he said.

“Well, you almost ripped and tore my shirt off.”

“Sorry.”

“You didn’t hurt me. You said you don’t want to.”

“Hm.”

“You should still get some rest. I thought I was going to have to drag you here.”

“I shouldn’t-”

“For fuck’s sake-- just lay here.” Demo pushed on his shoulder. To her surprise, he fell back easily, but stared up at the ceiling, the usual disapproving scowl on his face again. He wasn’t laying properly in the bed, but at least he was on top of it.

“Only because you insist,” he said, eyes firmly locked on the ceiling.

“Good.” Demo got up, tightening the towel around her torso. She escaped to the en suite, leaving him to get comfortable. Or stay right where he was, she didn’t care.

Running the water in the sink, she splashed cold water on her face to calm down. She flashed back to his hands on her face, the feeling of his weight pressing her into the shower wall, his hands coming up to cup her breasts… She shivered, pushing away the “what-ifs” that reminded her he could have done worse. But he stopped when she said ‘no.’

“Breathe. Just. Breathe. He’s just as mortified as you are, girl. Don’t go thinking that meant anything. He wasn’t in his head.”

Toweling off her face and then re-wrapping herself, she stepped back into the main part of the room.

“I’m gonna- oh.”

The Slayer had re-positioned himself in the bed, laying under the blankets. His back was to her, and his towel on the floor. Most notably, the light buzz of snoring came from the bed. In the short time since she ran off to the bathroom, he had made himself comfortable and immediately passed out.

“I knew you needed a real bed,” she muttered, heading out to find something else to wear and convince Dr. Hayden to re-calibrate the food fabricator. She really needed something stronger than purified water.

Leaving him be, Demo spent a few hours exploring the ship again, with Hayden’s guidance. At least he didn’t bring up the whole “wrestling a half-dazed demon hunter into her room” situation again. He even let her into the Slayer’s room to steal more of his clothing.

Pausing by the fabricator, she studied the in-progress suit.

“Why is it taking so long?”she asked.

_“The fabricator requires material components the ship is not highly stocked on. It is drawing resources from what it has available, mostly abandoned Sentinel arms and armor.”_

Demo tightened her lips, still observing the exosuit as it rotated in the fabricator, printing out armor plates for her thighs.

“What’s the real answer?” she asked, glancing in the direction of one of the ship’s many robotic eyes she had spotted in her explorations.

_“Does it matter? You’re here now.”_

“It matters to me because my presence matters to him. He doesn’t want me here. Why are you keeping me from leaving?”

 _“I’m not. I have no reason to keep_ you _, specifically, on board, Colonel. I do, however, have a reason to occupy the Slayer’s time. Your presence is… a happy coincidence.”_

“You _are_ manipulating him. You’re using me as a distraction. What are you planning?”

The ship grew quiet. She didn’t think he was going to answer, until Hayden spoke again, his voice dropping so low as to sound like he was standing beside her, instead of lingering above, omnipotent and omnipresent.

_“My new form needs time to grow. With the Khan Maykr dead, there is a gap in power among the people of Urdak. Demons do not only hunt your people, they continue to hunt mine, and will, now that the Khan Maykr is no longer present to fend them off. I require a body if I am to do something about the chaos running rampant. The war is not over, simply because the Slayer won a few battles.”_

“You really are one of them.”

_“I suspected he informed you at some point. I see no point in trying to hide my identity any longer. I am, or was, Samur Maykr, Seraphim, Progenitor… however they addressed me once, I am no longer. You may continue to think of me as Dr. Hayden.”_

“Why pretend to be a human, then? I mean, you could just have easily said you were an AI all along.”

Hayden chuckled. _“Would humanity trust a robot? Getting them to accept VEGA, despite his vast importance to the UAC compound, was hard enough. I needed to be human to become accepted on Earth; one brilliant enough to manufacture Argent energy and too afraid of death to accept his mortal end. Finding Dr. Samuel Hayden was another… coincidence…”_

“Wait- ‘finding?’ I thought-”

_“He was a real man, once. A single being. Maykr are first and foremost a hive-mind of people. Without connection to another sentient creature, I would have fallen into madness, and in my exile, the droning silence of one’s own thoughts is enough to lose oneself. He and I became one - I merged my mind with his, at the price of teaching him to use Argent energy, and in return, he agreed to be my host. I shed my corporeal form and hid from the Khan Maykr’s sight. It was through the force of Dr. Hayden’s will that my own became suppressed, chained down in my weakened state with no control over my fate as he became the dominant persona and I was shed to the recesses of his mind. Unfortunately for him, not allowing perfect symbiosis with a Maykr’s mind proved nearly fatal, and he released me long enough to save us both.”_

“With the robot body.”

_“Correct. It was not until the Slayer brought me here that we are able to flourish in harmony with itself, both as Samur Maykr and Dr. Samuel Hayden. When we were in our robotic form, I - Samur - remained in the recesses, allowing him to carry on with his work. That changed when we met… her…”_

“Sarge? You mean **_**you**_** had… have? …a thing for Sarge? Not Dr. Hayden?”

_“Make no mistake, Dr. Hayden once had an appetite for his admirers. But an affair without a human body was no longer appealing to him. When Sarge was with us… I was the being in control.”_

“Wow.”

_“Indeed.”_

“And just how much of that bullshit is actually true?”

_“That is up to you. Believe what you like. I cannot make you trust me. But, I will say this… I, Samur, do miss her. Independent affection is unheard of on Urdak. When people are of a hive-mind, there is little room for individualistic ideals like romance and heartache. To love another is to love oneself, and your neighbor, and so on, up to the Khan Maykr herself.”_

“Sounds like you’re a rebel.”

_“Call it what you like.”_

Demo rubbed the back of her neck. The story seemed genuine, even the idea that Sarge had somehow wooed an alien symbiote. But the fact that he just talked about it to her, without the Slayer around to rebut or argue, made her skeptical.

“I’ll believe it when I see it. If she gets back here, you’re gonna tell her how you feel.”

_“If it comes to that, I shall.”_

“Good, good…” Demo rubbed at her stomach, feeling it rumble with hunger. “Is there anyway to eat something that’s _not_ paste?”

_“The replicator can only produce what it has been fed to copy. That being said… there are many recipes for pizza.”_

Demo burst out laughing, recalling the mountain of boxes in the Slayer’s room.

“I could go for a slice.”

The Slayer rolled over, pulling a blanket around his waist as he stirred to waking. It took him several moments to realize he smelled clean bedclothes under him, a few more to process that he was still in the King’s chamber, and that he had actually slept there. He sat up in the bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. For once, his back wasn’t tight and his muscles didn’t scream with the agony of sleeping on the floor - Demo could not be told she was right. He’d never hear the end of it.

Pausing as he rubbed his eyes, he frowned. When had her opinion come to matter? She wasn’t going to be there forever. As soon as the Exosuit was done, she was going back to base. She had made her terms very clear. No reason to get attached. He might humor her until she left, but only if she made a big deal about him getting a proper rest.

Speak of the devil, Demo waltzed into the room with a cardboard box in hand and what looked like a six-pack of sodas balanced on top.

“Oh, you’re up. Good. I was worried I’d have to wake you and I don’t know if you’re a morning person.”

Watching her place the box on the small table beside the bed, the Slayer inhaled deep. Pizza with everything. He glanced at the cans - Volt Cola.

“How-?”

“Dr. Hayden told me you had fed the food replicator some samples and, well, voila!” She smiled, pulling a can away from the breakpack and handed it to him. “Sleep well?”

Turning the can over in his hand, the Slayer studied it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had one, let alone managed to add a sample to the replicator’s inventory. However, his head hurt too much to think about what Hayden might be doing to the Fortress, or if it meant Sentinels had been to Earth before, or any of that. The pizza smelled good, and he was really hungry.

“I slept,” he said, cracking the can open. It even fizzed like the real thing. He had to wonder of maybe ****VEGA**** had done some shopping (or shop _lifting_ ) while he was off hunting demons.

“Well, that’s good.” Demo handed him a plate with a slice before taking one for herself. “Got a bot to do your laundry, because you had like, nothing clean.”

“I had plenty-”

“You had ‘single guy clean,’ which means it didn’t stink enough for you to barf.”

The Slayer gestured at her pilfered outfit - pants with the legs rolled up and another band shirt (Malice in Chains) - as he lifted his slice.

“So, you helped yourself.”

“I mean, I could just hang out in a towel all day. Not like the walls have eyes or anything.”

“Point made.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes longer until Demo spoke again.

“That kind of thing happen a lot?”

The Slayer slowed his chewing, cramming the rest of the crust into his mouth instead of answering.

“I see. At least you weren’t alone this time.”

He glanced toward Demo, washing down his food with the rest of his drink.

“I don’t blame you. I see your scars. You’ve been through a lot. More than I could probably imagine. Some people wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

“I deal.”

“You do.” Demo leaned back in the chair she had dragged closer to the bed. “You know, if you slept okay, you can take this room. You ****should**** have it, anyway.”

“You’re staying here,” he said.

“There’s more places, aren’t there?”

“Yes, but-”

“Then that’s settled.”

“I’m not going to kick you out. You can stay here.”

Demo snorted and sipped her soda. “Well, the bed _is_ really big…”

Pausing his reach for another slice, the Slayer cocked an eyebrow at her.

Grinning, Demo shook her head. “Maybe not. You seem like you might be an aggressive cuddler.”

“I _could_ strangle you in my sleep.”

“That would suck for me.”

“It would.”

As the Slayer started on his next piece, Demo leaned forward, rolling her empty soda can between her fingers.

“Do you remember what happened in the shower?” she asked, dropping her voice low.

“No,” he said, stuffing a too-large bite into his mouth.

“You can just tell me you don’t want to talk about it, instead of gagging yourself on pizza.” She sat back again, watching him eat. “I’ll let it go.”

“Thank you,” he said, muffled by a full mouth.

Grabbing another slice and another can, Demo got up, leaving the box with him. “Have the rest. Growing boy like you needs his eats. I’m gonna go… be elsewhere, for a while, so you can dress and everything.”

Watching Demo leave the room, the Slayer let loose a heavy sigh. He absolutely _did_ remember what happened in the shower, now that his head was clear. He tried to undress her, wanted to feel her body under his, to make her scream and gasp. He had _groped her_. Why she hadn’t gone to find one of his guns and put a bullet between his eyes after that… he deserved it.

He got out of bed when a little service droid rolled into the room, holding aloft a fresh set of clothes - pajama bottoms, underwear, and an Imp Bizkit tee shirt.

Once he handed off the towel from the floor, he collected the remains of the pizza, cans of soda, and retreated back to his own room, where he belonged.

* * *

“So, Benji, you got a lock on his coordinates?” Sarge asked, leaning over his shoulder to peer at the computer. She couldn’t read a thing - it was all in Hayden’s proprietary computer language, but he tapped away rapidly, focused on the monitor.

“I do. It seems he’s still in upper-Earth orbit, between there and the Moon. I’m keeping a track on the radar. I’m just surprised the ARC is keeping this under wraps.”

“We don’t need the Slayer anticipating our arrival. You don’t think he’ll try to bolt?”

“No… after you returned, we received one coded packet from the Fortress before the portal signal scrambled. It contained instructions to how to disable the Fortress’ dimensional warp from outside, once we make contact again. I just finished decoding it last night.”

Sarge pulled a desk chair up beside Benji and turned him away from his computer.

“Are you telling me he can’t… _vworp_ away?”

Benji grinned. “Not anymore. It took a few tries, but once I got through information packet, I realized there’s only one person it could have come from.”

“Samuel.” Sarge smiled. “Smart fucker. He wants to come home.”

Reaching out, Benji put his hands on her shoulders. “We’ll get him this time, don’t worry.”

Sarge leaned over to give Benji a hug. Ever since she had brought Hayden back from the Armaros ruin, they had grown into an odd friendship. Benji had recognized Sarge’s lingering visits for what they were, and had kept her up to date on Hayden’s recovery. He had been integral to keeping Sarge calm while the resistance went on.

“You think you can keep it in your pants this time, around the Doomslayer?”

Benji leaned back, waving his hand dismissively. “Bah, I’m over him. Strong and stoic is fine, but he has a total disregard for technology. I can’t crush on a guy like that. Totally incompatible.”

Sarge chuckled. “Good. Because I’m gonna kick his ass next time I see him.”

* * *

The fabricator finished the arms of the exosuit, only starting on the chestplate that morning. It was already half-complete. Only a few more days until it was done.

Demo passed by it, heading toward the bridge without giving it a second look.

 _“Good evening, Colonel,”_ said Hayden as she entered.

She sat down by the monitor the Slayer used to listen to ARC communications and tapped the center button. Another broadcast from the resistance, announcing that two more of the Ark Sanctuaries had been found safe, orbiting within a safe zone between Mars and Jupiter.

At least humanity wasn’t going extinct. The Doomslayer had seen to that. The ARC resistance kept the Arks safe, for now. Humanity might get to rebuild yet.

An icon of Hayden’s robotic face popped up on screen beside a box that flashed with the waveform of his voice.

_“You don’t seem pleased about this news, Colonel. Humanity has a chance, now.”_

“I know. I was just thinking they should know who saved them.”

_“He doesn’t do it for the praise or adoration. It is a mission he has been charged with.”_

“That doesn’t mean people can’t know.”

_“Perhaps it is better that humanity think the Doomslayer is not an avenging angel, but a symbol of hope that others may aspire to… not merely a mortal hero that might let them down someday, but as an icon that others may be inspired to ascend towards greatness. ”_

Demo sat back, parting her lips as she tried to think of a reply.

“Wow, that was… probably the nicest I’ve ever heard you talk about him.”

Dr. Hayden chuckled. _“I have my moments.”_ The monitor on the other console beeped, catching Demo’s attention. _“He’s approaching the bridge. Do you wish to avoid him again?”_

She shook her head. “He’s the one who’s been avoiding _me_. I’m not letting him dodge me this time.”

 _“You haven’t seen him dodge_ **_**Death.** _ ** _”_

“Does Sarge like your bad jokes?”

Hayden’s speech box closed.

Demo rolled her eyes. Hayden’s brand of being irritating and escaping in an instant was on point that day. She didn’t even think he was watching now. Not from the bridge, anyway.

The Slayer stopped as he as far as the teleporter, spotting Demo sitting by the console. He promptly turned around and started to walk away.

“Slayer, wait.”

He did not.

“Oh, come on…” Demo said, getting up to jog after him. He moved faster - she followed with a run. “Seriously?!” she called, watching him vault over the side and dash across the gap to be directly opposite. He had put on his specialized boots from his suit, using them to avoid her. A new abuse of fantastic technology. It was really irritating.

Demo leaned on the railing, catching her breath.

“Fine, be that way. I’ll just go to my room. Alone. Again. No one to talk to.”

The Slayer’s arms dropped and he rolled his head back, growling in frustration. In another mad leap, he dashed across once more. Taking a hold of the railing Demo leaned on, he perched on the edge of the landing, hunched forward like a gargoyle.

“You are unnecessarily extra,” Demo said, suppressing a laugh. As blunt and as unpleasant as he could be sometimes, he was also just… weird. A strange, semi-immortal, trans-dimensional demon hunter who ate too much pizza and kept souvenirs of his travels. With a mountain of shirts from bands she’d never heard of, a computer that still took physical media, and a collection of comic books interleaved with literature in alien languages.

He dropped off the railing when she gave him space, slowly standing upright.

“What?” he asked. His arms folded across his chest, already on the defensive.

“You’ve been avoiding me for two weeks. I know it’s probably not good for your image if you’re perceived as weak, but dammit, you’re human.”

“I could have hurt you.”

“You didn’t. You were pretty clear that you didn’t want to, either.”

He turned his head, furrowing his brow with a troubled expression.

“I groped you.”

“I asked you what you wanted. Were you trying to tell me?”

She could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, remaining quiet.

“You know you stopped when I said ‘no.’ Even half out of your head, you still _listened_ to me. I mean, you _did_ pout a little…”

The Slayer’s cheeks started to turn red. “I don’t pout.”

 _“You certainly do,”_ Hayden chimed in.

“You’re not helping!” Demo said, looking up at the ceiling. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, slowly approaching the Slayer.

“It’s okay, you know, to want someone. I don’t imagine this life leaves you with a lot of companions.”

Dropping his head forward, Demo could see his eyes were closed, trying to avoid eye contact with her. The muscle in his cheek twitched as he tightened his jaw.

“No,” he said.

She reached up, touching one hand to the side of his face. He looked up in surprise; his arms started to drop down from his defensive stance. He breathed heavier, his bottom lip trembling. She was pressed up into his space now, but he let her stay there.

“I realize that no one really thanks you for what you do,” she said, keeping her voice soft. “So… thank you. For fighting for humanity, for taking on so many monsters… putting up with Dr. Hayden…”

The Slayer sniffed and chuckled.

 _“I resent that,”_ replied the AI.

That response made the Slayer laugh harder, Demo laughing with him. When he wasn’t grinning with malice, she thought his smile was kind of cute. He dipped his head down, somewhat _shy,_ as he laughed.

Demo stretched up to put her arms around his neck, giving him an embrace. He responded by coiling his thick arms around her, burying his face in the nape of her neck as he hugged her back.

 _Oh._ Demo shivered involuntarily as she felt dwarfed against him. Needy heat pooled in her belly, feeling his body all around her as he held on. The sensation changed abruptly, however, when she felt his grip tighten and the world go topsy-turvy as he jumped over the railing with the both of them, only to catch himself with a shock of air as he landed again, one floor down.

“Holy SHIT, give me a warning if you’re going to do that!” Demo shouted. “I thought-I don’t-” Blood rushing in her ears, she slapped him as she backed out of his arms, giving him a sharp smack across his mouth. Her brain caught up with what she had done, surprised she managed to land a blow on him. He looked shocked by it, too.

He barely turned his head, the mark a bright pink beside his lips, making the scar there stand out more. He closed his eyes, breath heaving as an irritated growl rose from his heaving chest.

It took Demo half a second to realize that noise he made was not a growl, but a _purr._ She gulped, staring up at the Slayer as he looked back at her.

“Do that again,” he said, his voice low and husky.

“What, hit you? Don’t you get smacked around enough?”

“I do very _well_ in a fight.” He leaned forward, presenting her his face, just within range. “Right here,” he said, tapping his cheek.

“You want me to wind you up.”

“ ** **Yes.**** ”

Demo blew out the nervous feeling, hoping he wasn’t just egging her on so he could feel tough again, right after being vulnerable. She didn’t need that posturing crap right now.

Cocking her hand back, she leaned into the strike, letting her weight carry into the blow. She struck him again, hard enough that she heard it echo, followed by a grunt and more heavy panting out of the Slayer.

He backed up, face red all over, leaning into the railing. His eyes were closed again, as if savoring the sting of being slapped. Bracing himself, the Slayer shuddered once as he breathed out the sensations, calming down again.

“That’s better,” he said. As he moved away from the rail, he tugged on and adjusted his combat pants.

“Hold up.” Demo put a hand on his chest. “You could have just asked me to hit you. You didn’t need to jump a balcony with me to get me pissed off.”

The Slayer snorted. “That wasn’t going through my mind. I was going to ask if I could stay with you tonight,” He gestured to the floor they were on, where their rooms were, “…then, you slapped me.” A wry smile graced his lips. “Brought me back down.”

“Down from what?”

“To reality.”

Demo shook her head. “Stop being cryptic. Don’t just walk off and leave me hanging. Did you really want to share the room?”

The Slayer’s smile dropped. He stepped closer, leaning down until he was nose-to-nose with her. “I wanted too much,” he said. “Can’t ask for that.” His hands were on her shoulders, rooting her to the spot.

Not that Demo wanted to run.

“What if I offer?”

The Slayer scoffed, tilting his head to one side. “It’s a burden.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Demo said. She fisted her hand in his shirt and pulled him down, locking her lips onto his.

He snarled at her for taking the initiative and pushed her against the wall. He lifted her up while she pried open his mouth with her tongue. He pulled her legs around his waist, both hands kneading her ass.

Demo broke long enough to bite his bottom lip, pulling it with her teeth. In response, he pushed his hips up against hers and she could feel his cock getting hard through two layers of clothing. That needy surge was back - she had already seen him naked - now she wanted more.

“Room,” she breathed, ducking her head to bite the side of his neck. “Mine.”

The Slayer growled in response. Not letting her walk, he carried her further down the hall, to the King’s chamber.

Demo hung onto him, her heart racing. They were doing this. She felt terrified and thrilled all at once. She had already seen him fighting. She had to wonder if he was just as brutal in the bedroom.

Once inside, the Slayer marched them over to the bed and tossed her down onto it. She landed with a bounce and looked back up at him. He had a smile again, but not the one she saw when watching him fight, nor the shy, sweet one from upstairs. Just… happy.

She crooked a finger at him. “Well, c’mere,” she said, leaning back on her other hand.

He did as he was told, leaning down and giving her another kiss.

She grabbed the hem of his shirt and tugged it up, exposing his sculpted musculature; he broke the kiss long enough to take the shirt off and toss it to the side before diving back in. Demo let her hands roam over his chest and stomach.

He pushed her back on the mattress, sinking back to his knees at the edge of the bed. Tugging on her (his, stolen) pants, he yanked them off, raising a brow when he found she had gone without panties. He smirked up at her; she looked back at him, her face warm.

“What? I only have one pair.”

“Makes this easier,” he said, pushing her back down with one hand on her stomach. The other pulled her legs apart as he leaned in, running his tongue between her labia.

Demo gasped, reaching for his head with one hand and to hold his hand with the other. She wasn’t expecting this, the sensation of his tongue, warm and thick as it ran along her lips, lapping at the wetness he drew out of her. His free hand spread her vulva further, letting him reach her cunt with his tongue. He licked around the entrance, teasing gasps and moans from Demo until he pressed his fingers in. His mouth latched onto her clit, sucking hard. Demo hooked her legs over his shoulders and pulled him in. Her hips bucked as his fingers pressed into her, the intense licking and sucking on her clit; The sensation, combined with his thick fingers pistoning in and out made her come quickly.

“Holy shit…” Demo fell back against the bed, hot and breathless as he relented, giving her a chance to recover as he continued stripping.

“Did your Sentinel buddies teach you that?” she gasped, throwing an arm over her face.

“You could say that. Argenta anatomy is very close to a human’s.”

Demo felt his weight settle in beside her and she peeked up from under her arm.

“Oh?”

The Slayer smirked. “Any gender.”

Demo’s eyes went wide for a moment, before she grinned and jumped on top of him.

“I bet you were real popular.”

“I was ‘the Outsider,’” he said, holding onto her hips as she took off her pilfered shirt and bra, throwing them off the end of the bed. “Once I proved myself, then, yes, I became very… interesting… to my brothers and sisters in arms.”

Demo’s smile softened as she leaned down, pressing a few light kisses to his chest. She wouldn’t pester him further with questions about his past, wanting to keep him in the present. Talking about what he lost could trigger another episode. Instead, she kept her mouth moving, her lips crossing the valley between his pecs and over his shoulders. His hands settled on her back, content to let her do as she wanted, if his pleased _purring_ was anything to go by. She nipped and kissed at the nape of his neck to his ear, giving it a light tug with her teeth.

Between her thighs, she could feel his cock sliding over her wet cunt as the Slayer gave shallow little thrusts, trying to get some friction. She squeezed it between her legs, trapping it there.

“Eager?”

“It’s been a while,” he grunted.

Demo smirked before kissing him again. “Me too.”

She felt his hands grab at her ass again, moving her slightly to get a little more pressure on his dick. Wriggling her hips in his grasp, she giggled when she heard him grunt in unsatisfied frustration.

“What?” she teased, grinding back against his cock, feeling it slide against her pussy as she moved back and forth. His fingers dug into her thighs, his arms tense to restrain himself.

“Want…” he growled.

Demo got off him, curling herself against his side. She took his cock in hand, giving him a few quick pumps before stroking much more slowly.

“What is it you want?”

The Slayer groaned and tried to pull her back on top of him. She gave the base of his cock a firm squeeze and he backed off.

“Tell me.”

“To fuck you,” he panted, his lids heavy as he looked up at her.

“Hmm, I don’t know if I should…” She rubbed the head with her palm, giving him the barest touch. “Ask me nicely.”

“Can I-”

“ _May-_ ”

“May I fu-”

“- _please-”_

“May I please, _please_ , fuck you?” he begged. He trembled from self-restraint, and it impressed Demo, how he kept himself in check. And it gave her one hell of a rush.

“Well, since you asked _nicely_ …” She let him go and crawled further up the bed, toward the pillows. He followed her up, covering her body with his and nearly flattening her into the mattress. He scooped his arm under her waist to hold her tight against his body.

“This how you want me?” Demo asked, glancing towards him. She could feel him nod against her shoulder, so she pushed into him. “Say it.”

“I want to fuck you like this. _Please.”_

Demo turned enough to kiss his temple. “You may.”

The Slayer sighed in relief, sitting back on his knees. He positioned his cock behind her, teasing her cunt with the head before pushing in.

Demo moaned, dropping her head down into the pillows. His cock was thick and hot inside her, making her tremble as he slowly thrust forward. She could feel it throbbing as he paused to lean over her back, his hands taking a firm grasp of her hips. He pulled her all the way onto his cock, then pushed her away, her cunt gripping every inch as he moved her away.

“Slayer… I’m not going to beg,” she panted, glancing back at him again.

He leaned down and snarled into her ear: “Good, because I want you to _scream,_ ” just as he snapped his hips forward, thrusting so hard her arms buckled under her.

“Oh, shit…” Demo managed to brace one hand on the headboard as he thrust again, striking her deep.

One hand played with her tits, pulling on her nipples; the other stayed between her legs, pressing and rubbing at her clit. All while he pounded her from behind, his thick cock sliding in and out of her pussy, making her thighs a mess. His balls smacked against the backs of her thighs, every wet slap punctuating his thrusts.

Demo chanted expletives and his name, pushing back to try to match his rhythm. She expected every aspect of his life to be intense, and he lived up to that expectation. Dropping her head down to the pillows, she gave up bracing herself as her body weakened, defenseless against his onslaught while she came hard all over his cock. And he wasn’t even _done_.

When she drooped forward, he picked her back up, pulling her into his chest. She leaned back and turned enough to kiss him; he grabbed under her thighs and fell onto his haunches, driving his cock up into her cunt with unrelenting force.

“Oh, fuck… yes…” she panted, barely able to put voice to her heated gasping. She reached back with one hand to pull his head closer; he buried his face in the nape of her neck and bit down. She let out a shocked cry as she came again, her body going rigid before dropping onto the bed. She felt his cock slide out; she reached between her legs and massaged her aching cunt, the touches light but making her twitch.

Blinking lazily up at him, Demo’s mouth dropped open. He was _still hard,_ and looked down at her like a predator watching its prey, ready to devour her.

“Holy shit… let me catch my breath first.”

Demo hoisted herself up onto the pillows, helped by the Slayer. He laid her back, sinking his weight on top of her as he dropped down for a kiss. She groaned softly, resting cold fingers on the sides of his neck. He propped himself up on one elbow, idly playing with her tits as she composed herself.

“You… are really… something else…” she murmured between the light smacking of lips. “If you plan on making this… mm… a thing…” She groaned, his hand on her breasts moving down to massage her pussy again. “You might… keep me here…”

The Slayer huffed. “You’re definitely better… company… than…mff,” he said, chuckling against her mouth. He didn’t want to think about a future, just the present, as he sat back on his knees. He rubbed the head of his cock against her clit; Demo pulled her legs back, giving him full access again. Her cunt flexed and tightened around him as he pushed in, swallowing his cock.

“Ready for more?” he asked, leaning over her to steal another kiss.

“You bet.”

He chuckled and pulled back, watching her face. She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip, arching up at the sensation of his cock moving inside her. As he drove forward, she opened her eyes and let go of her legs, wrapping them around his hips. Her hands came up, grabbing for his chest, his face, begging him without words to come closer. He obliged, cradling her head with one hand, kissing her deeply. Her arms moved up over his back, her nails raking lines into his shoulders as he treated her to quicker, shallower thrusts, his weight sinking her into the pillows.

Breaking the kiss, Demo pressed her cheek to his, whimpering sweetly into his ear. He braced one arm on the headboard and curled the other under the small of her back. He just wanted her closer - the desire to merely get off faded as he listened the sounds of pleasure coming from her.

Picking Demo up completely, he sat back on his haunches once more, pulling her up with him. She gave him a surprised yelp, smiling down when she realized they weren’t stopping. He closed his eyes and kissed her again; he felt her brace on the bed with her feet, her hips rolling to draw deep moans from his throat.

“You close yet, soldier?” she asked, running her fingers through his short hair.

“I have a _lot_ of stamina.”

Demo grinned, pushing against his shoulders, lifting up, then sinking back down on his cock with a shiver.

“I noticed. You’re gonna wear me out.”

He shook his head. “Nah… you’re pretty resilient.”

“ _Resilient_ , huh? You tell that to all your comrades or just me?”

He scowled. “Certainly not Hayden.”

Demo burst out laughing and hugged him. He returned the embrace, shuddering as he felt her laughter all through his body. He grunted, his cock twitching inside her.

“Oh, I’m sorry… but, your face…” Demo wiped at her eyes, giggling again. The sensation made him shiver.

“You okay?” she asked.

“I don’t know if you noticed, but when you laugh…” he felt sweat beading on his temples as she gasped softly.

“Oh… Getting a little extra down there?” Demo squeezed and rolled her hips. “Well, whatever helps, Doomguy.”

“Ugh, don’t call me that.”

Demo giggled again. He grunted.

“You going to punish me for it?” she asked, her eyes alight with mischief.

“Maybe.” He tossed her back onto the bed, laying beside her. “Maybe I’ll just have you do the rest of the work.”

Demo raised a brow and moved to straddle him. “Well, if you insist. _Doomguy._ ”

She gave another yelp when he smacked her ass. She stuck out her tongue at him before settling on her knees, sinking onto his cock. Closing her eyes, she gave herself a few moments to adjust, her hands on his stomach.

When she opened her eyes again, she looked down at him with such warmth, the Slayer felt his chest tighten and his heart skip a beat. The ghosts of his faulty memory reminded him that he had been in this place once before, not with his companions among the Night Sentinels, but with someone else, someone from Before, deep in his past. Unlike the last time that sensation washed over him, the ache in his chest felt like a goodbye, like… closure. Like maybe… he was allowed to have this, have someone close.

Stunned into quiet, the Slayer lifted one of Demo’s hands from his stomach and kissed the back of her knuckles before lacing his fingers with hers. She tilted her head with a confused smile.

“Did I do something?”

He shook his head.

“You just had this look…”

Sighing, the Slayer ran his hand up the length of her spine and drew her down to him, forehead to forehead.

Demo thought the Slayer’s eyes were glassy, but it might have just been a trick of the light. He wasn’t speaking, but his hands did the talking as she rode him. He held onto her, squeezing her hand with his own. His free hand rubbed her back, helped keep her steady on his thighs as she leaned back, bouncing up and down on his cock. She arched her back as she came, rocking her hips and shivering. It was only then that he released his grip on her hand, putting his own on her thighs and holding her aloft as he thrust up into her cunt. His orgasm finally broke, unloading his seed with a few violent spasms and a shuddering groan from his throat.

Demo rolled her hips, moving up on her knees to release his spent cock. Cum dribbled down her thighs and onto his as she settled down, so woozy she was afraid she was going to fall off the bed.

“I needed that,” she said, closing her eyes. She felt his strong hands lift her up and pull her towards his chest, where she curled in, warm in the afterglow. She nodded off, soothed by the sounds of his steady heartbeat.

* * *

“Come _on,_ you’ve been reading the same page for twenty minutes,” Demo groaned, lifting one of the Slayer’s hands to put it on her tit. He pinched and rolled the nipple in his fingers, making her whimper.

“Stop pretending to ignore me. Your face is red and you’ve got a three ring circus in your pants,” she continued, reaching down to palm the tent in his combat pants.

Putting his book aside, the Slayer leaned back in his seat, bridging the tips of his fingers together and looked up at her. He raised a brow, his eyes darting downward.

“Finally.” Demo slipped off the Slayer’s thigh and dropped onto the floor in front of him, down on her knees, and between his.

Unzipping his pants, Demo grinned playfully up at him.

“Oh, _my_ , what do we have here?” she asked, kneading the bulge in his underwear. He turned his face and covered his mouth with his palm, trying to act cool, but she could see the lines crinkle at the corners of his eyes as he tried to hide his smile.

“Are you shy?” she singsonged, sliding her hand into the opening of his briefs, closing her fingers around his cock. “You don’t _feel_ shy to me.” Pulling it out, she gave a dramatic gasp, eyes wide with her hands on her cheeks. “Oh, Mr. Slayer! Is _that_ your BFG?”

“Oh my God.” Shutting his eyes, the Slayer lost his composure and started laughing. He clapped a hand over his eyes, shaking and slouching down in his seat.

Demo smiled up at him, resting her arms on his lap, savoring the victory. She liked making him smile - he deserved the break. She couldn’t fix his problems, but she thought she could be there to give him relief when he needed it.

“Okay, okay,” he said. “You win.” He leaned down and scooped Demo up into his lap, pulling her in for a kiss. “You’re… terrible…” he murmured, as he kissed his way down to her shoulder.

Hissing pleasantly as he sucked on one of her breasts, she replied with a breathy giggle. “I’m a goddamned delight.” Reaching between them, she guided his cock inside, sinking down slowly.

“I’m not arguing,” the Slayer hummed in agreement. He held her close as she rode him in his chair, enjoying the sweet sounds of her moans. He nipped lightly at her skin, content to let her take the lead. As long as she stayed, she could do as she liked.

Just as Demo leaned back and he dipped his head to run his tongue down her torso, the door to his room opened. She jumped forward, hugging his neck.

Out in the hall, alarms were sounding. Hayden spoke through the open doorway.

_“Forgive my interruption, Slayer, Colonel… but we have company.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, so a lot of people liked "Distraction" enough to wonder about a sequel, well... it's a sequel, but not the same exact way. I played through Doom (2016) and started Doom Eternal, heard about the Ancient Gods DLC (SERAPHIM!), so I turned this ...arc? into a Slayer-focused episode.
> 
> Hence the new character in Demo.
> 
> As far as Ancient Gods and what's canon for Samur/Samuel, my take is probably 100% wrong, but this is fanfiction and I do what I want. How the DLC goes may affect that upcoming part (mostly getting me to write it >.>;) so we'll see.
> 
> The next part will feature much, much more Samur/Samuel, I can promise that.


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